Selfish Hearts
by dreamchaser31
Summary: Stephanie and her father have a serious talk... Let me know if I should continue. Review!


I was sitting on the front steps that evening, when a light came on and the front door opened. I turned around to see who it was, and sighed when it was my father. Thank God it wasn't my mother or grandmother, they had drilled me all evening. "Why isn't Joseph here," or "Why did you guys break up," or finally, "What did you do this time?" With each question the empty feeling inside me got worse, and my heart felt like it was breaking.

I didn't like this separation, and yet it felt like they were blaming me for it. I'll admit that it was my fault this time, but I'll be damned if they think that I'll settle down and become domesticated like they always wanted me too. That's what the argument had been about.

He wanted me to quit my job. Over the past few months he'd been doing ok, but you get into one little gun fight, and he goes all macho Italian boyfriend mode on me. Okay so it really wasn't a gun fight, more like all the guns were pointed at me and about to fire. I was just doing my job.

I let out another sigh and put my head in my hands while my father took a seat beside me. "Joe called," he started , "he was calling to see if you were ok."

"Good for him," I retorted, really not ready to talk about the one and only Joe Almighty. This whole argument was his fault, if he hadn't told me to quit my job we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. He knows that I hate him to tell me what to do, and he went and did it anyway.

My father sighed and looked upward to the sky. "It's a pretty night out huh," he asked looking at me again with a small smile, "the stars seem to get brighter during the first weeks of spring every year." He leaned back with his elbows resting on the step behind him, and his long legs stretched out in front of him. "I love coming out her at nights, gives me a good place to think."

I looked at him like he had antennas growing out of his ears. My father was talking all sorts of mushy right now, but I decided to go along with what he said just to make conversation. "What do you think about?"

"Oh just all sorts of stuff. Work, bills, the grandkids," he paused and looked my way, "you mostly though."

I grinned and looked down at my feet. "Why me?"

"Because you're the only one out of my kids that gives me things to think about I guess." He shrugged. "I worry about you."

"Why," I asked, and let out a breath, "I'm doing alright, there is no need to worry about me."

He scoffed, and looked at the stars once again. "Now Stephanie, do you really expect me to believe that bunch of bull you just fed me?"

I looked away and laughed. "No," I replied, shaking my head. "I guess not."

"Let's put it this way Steph," he sat up and his expression turned serious, "I'm your father. Now I may not appear to give a damn about the things going on in my families life, but I do. And recently you have been my number one priority."

I didn't like where this was going. His voice was growing sterner with every word, and the easy smile that was there a few minutes ago had vanished. I had no choice but to shake my head for him to continue.

"Stephanie, just in the last month you've managed to do the impossible. You exploded 13 cars, even the Buick. You've been shot twice, not even counting the times you've been shot at. You've been arrested for trespassing, granted you got out of the charges easy, but still. And you even managed to get yourself in the middle of a high profile drug ring," he finished and looked at me. "And now as your father I feel that my voice needs to be heard."

I nodded tears were falling down my eyes. My father had never talked to me this way before and I was scared. I'd always been daddy's little girl growing up so this hot seat was a whole new thing for me.

"Stephanie," he began again, taking his index finger and wiped some of the tears away, "sweetheart, I love you. But everyday I hear the trouble you get yourself into, and every day I feel the same rush of adrenaline, because I can't help but think that today might be your last day. You get yourself into too much trouble, it's only time when this job get the better of it. Your mom sees it, your grandma sees it, I see it, and even Joe sees it."

I looked down again at the mention of Joe's name, and the tears were falling hard.

"He loves you sweet heart, just as much as I do, but in an entirely different way. That's why he is the way he is around you. He doesn't want to lose you, and this whole thing you got going on here, this I don't want to quit my job thing. This job could kill you Stephanie, and where does that leave the rest of us. Now it might be being selfish, but that's totally okay in this situation. If being selfish keeps you here with us longer then we have a right to be."

I nodded my head unable to speak.

"You won't find another man out there like him honey," his tone was almost a whisper as he pushed one of the many curls that fell onto my forehead away. "He's good for you , and I know you know that too, so stop fighting him, and let him love you. Because he does love you, and if your willing to give up that once in a lifetime thing than so be it. But don't let it be over something like this. He's being just as selfish with his heart as your being with your independence. And walking away from him is tearing him up. He can't stand it you can tell it in his voice when you talk to him."

He looked at me and his smile turned sad.

"One of these days he's going to get sick of fighting with you. Of you walking out on him all the time and he's going to move on."

I gasped. That couldn't be true. Joe would never move on because he loved me. He couldn't love any body else. And then it hit me. I was being totally selfish. Joe does everything to make me happy. He holds me when he's had no sleep and I wake up from a really bad dream. He helps me sometimes with my skips. He goes to my family dinners. He takes care of my hamster like it was his own, and even makes the most amazing meals for us to share. And the one thing that I could do to make him happy I never even gave him.

Quitting my job.

I jumped up and ran into the house.

"Where are you going," my father called out after me.

"Calling Vinnie," I yelled back, "I'm quitting my job."

I just hoped it wasn't too late.


End file.
